Mistletoe
by changenotcoins
Summary: Collins and Angel's first kiss, à la mistletoe style.


**This is honor of the Christmas spirit of course. VERY AU but damn, I just couldn't resist a bit of AngelCollins Christmas fluff. ;)**

**Also, for those of you who read my other stuff, I am working on getting the following stories updated by the end of this week, hopefully: **_**Addictive Love,**__** Look After You **_**and the collaboration with missxflawless called**_** I Can't Hate You Anymore**_**, which is on her page. Until then, enjoy the tidings of joy that spring from mistletoe and the utter adorableness that is AngelCollins. :D**

**And I guess the updates are coming in bulk because I have to find another creative outlet, seeing as how I broke my collarbone playing soccer. Haha, don't you just love it when one person's pain is your gain?**

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Collins' eyes snapped open as someone grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. And then it hit him - _Christmas_. Christmas morning was the one morning he didn't mind being forcibly awoken from his slumber, but being shaken awake didn't sit so well with him, and he could just make out Mark's scrawny figure before him.

"Collins, wake up! Guess what day it is!" Mark was practically jumping up and down at this point. His usual aloof calmness had been replaced with a positive giddiness that Collins had never witnessed before from him.

"Good God, Mark, what the fuck is wrong with you? I mean, I realize it's Christmas, and you're excited, but can't a guy get some shut eye around here or is that too much to ask for on our Savior's birthday?"

"You don't believe in that shit anyways, so just get the fuck up!"

"This is harassment. You know, it's illegal to mock people for their fundamental beliefs." He leapt out of bed, his breath only slightly caught by surprise as the sub-zero temperature of his room in Roger and Mark's loft hit him. With chattering teeth, he pulled on jeans and a red and green flannel shirt. He figured he could at least be_ somewhat _festive. Feeling slightly less chilled as he wrapped his arms around his body, he strode into the living room where he could see Roger making a steaming pot of coffee from the small kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, Rog," Collins grinned at Roger. "What the hell is wrong with Mark?"

"He already had too many eggnogs, if you can't tell."

"I love Christmas!" Mark yelled as he walked into the room.

"Really?" Collins rolled his eyes. "I hadn't noticed."

"Is that girl downstairs - Mimi? - still after you?"

"Ugh, like alien after predator." Roger groaned into his coffee.

Collins laughed at his best friends and their silly Christmas antics - Roger and his angsty, cynical unspirited self; and Mark with his unusual jolliness this year over presents, decorations and the occasional eggnog. Well, maybe more than the _occasional_ eggnog as he and Roger could no doubt tell. _This_ was why he had decided to come home this year for Christmas. He missed the people he now thought of as his surrogate family, the only people he'd spend a holiday with in a heartbeat. His heart swelled with love for both of them.

"Oh my God, is that _mistletoe_ I see?" Collins looked disgustedly at the part of the ceiling nearly above the couch where the small plant hung.

"Inded it is! What's wrong with a little romantic Christmas spirit, eh?" Mark replied, gazing at his decoration.

Roger buried his face in his hands, and groaned again. "God, if he doesn't stop soon, I swear I'll shoot him."

"I hate mistletoe. It's just another stupid romatic gimmick to lure in the opposite sex - or in my case, the same sex. Whose idea was it anyway to hang the stuff in the first place? Whose idea was it to dangle it from the ceiling, where the hapless and lovelorn could haplessly and lovelornly wander beneath it and get trapped by the people who made them hapless and lovelorn in the first place? A seriously cruel and warped mind came up with that one: Merry fucking Christmas. You are fucked."

"You ruin life. You ruin Christmas. You're like the Christmas killer, Collins. You ruin the true truth with facts."

"I ruin the _true truth _with facts? Shit, Mark, I hope this eggnog starts to wear off soon or I swear I'll shove my foot so far up your ass that -"

He stopped midsentence as a knock came at the door. He figured it was the aforementioned Mimi, whom he'd met earlier that week, and stood up to answer the door. He slid open the door and was surprised to see not Mimi, but someone... someone who was definitely _not _Mimi. Although he thought Mimi was rather pretty - and this _was_ a gay's man opinion - he had retired from the boob business long ago. Long enough to know that this utterly gorgeous person standing before him was almost more than he could take, and shivers ran up and down his spine. He felt as if his jaw had dropped all the way to the floor, and he stood staring at this beautiful person - those bright shining eyes; the wig that framed her face perfectly; the soft, velvety caramel skin; the innocent but oh so adorable smile; the_ outfit_.

She giggled at Collins' expression, and slipped past him and into the loft. "I was just looking for Mimi. She's not here, is she?"

"Uh, well, um, she - well, I don't know if, um -"

"Since Collins is unable to form a logical coherent sentence in your presence, Angel, I'll be happy to let you know that she isn't here." Roger grinned at Collins, feeling joy at how flustered he'd gotten. Collins glared at Roger when Angel wasn't looking, mouthing the words, 'I hate you'.

"You must be Collins. Roger's told me a lot about you," Angel grinned at Collins, and leaned in close to him to give a kiss on the cheek in greeting. He blushed like mad, and this only made Angel giggle more. "You're cute when you blush."

"I'm going to get some booze. I _really_ need to get drunk right now." Collins said, and turned away from Angel, heading straight for the closet where they had always kept their various amounts of alcohol. His fingers lingered on the place where Angel had kissed him and a small smile graced his lips.

"Is your little boyfriend in there?"

"He was _not_ my boyfriend!" Collins shouted angrily in response, his voice muffled since he was in the next room.

"See, Angel, Collins decided to come home because he had a...falling out with a closeted soap star over at NYU. I guess he was just too embarrased to show his face there anymore and came crawling back to us the other day." Roger grinned, taking pride in his mockings of Collins.

Collins emerged from the closet with a huge bottle of Stoli and an angry expression on his face. "Okay, first of all, I came home for Christmas, asswipe. And second of all, he was_ not _my boyfriend. I just... knew him."

"Yeah, like Romeo knows Juliet." Mark giggled.

"Like Sigfried knows Roy." Roger snorted into his now Stoli coffee.

"You're a smart ass, you know that?" Collins sneered in Roger's direction.

"Yes, I'd say I'm very smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass," Roger replied, and then turned his head to examine his butt. "Well, maybe a tad bit since it's plump and sexilicious."

"_What the fuck_?" It was Collins' turn to bury his face in his hands because of annoyance.

"Oh, come on, Collins, that's your best quality: you're a secret mess."

"Not such a secret."

"Not such a mess." Roger winked.

"I feel as if sarcasm is the refuge of those who know they're wrong and are on the ropes. Like you two."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil. Your input is greatly appreciated." Roger rolled his eyes at Mark, suddenly wondering if those eggnogs he'd knocked back had done more damage than he'd thought.

Angel watched as this whole scene unfolded right before her eyes, and she was utterly amazed. The dynamic between them... she certainly couldn't fit into all that. In musician's terms, it was like... they had their own rhythm and she was just the extra beat. But she was determined to know Collins' rhythm - get your minds out of the gutter, people, no pun intended - because Roger had certainly never mentioned how _incredibly hot _he was. Angel could never pass up the handed opportunity to semi-drunkenly flirt with an unsuspecting gorgeous guy.

"So you _are_ gay?" Angel asked.

"My sexual orientation? Horizontal, usually."

"Geez, Collins, do you have to answer_ every _question with a sarcastic comment, or can we rid you of that habit?" Roger asked.

"Well, you know what they say: you can't teach a gay dog straight tricks." Collins replied, taking a sip of Stoli from the bottle.

"No one says that." Mark stated bewilderedly.

"Well, I'll start saying it and it'll catch on." he said, and at that very moment, another knock came from the loft door, and this time, Collins was positive it was Mimi. He hoped to _God _it was Mimi.

She appeared next to him unexpectedly and grinned. As always, she had let herself in. "Ah, Collins. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Meems." By the time he had replied, Mimi had already begun to converse with Mark, and now they were giggling and pointing at Angel and Collins. Collins found this suspicious, but he shook the feeling off. He noticed that Roger had begun to slowly inch away from Mimi and Mark, and he laughed lightly at the frightened look on his friend's features.

"So, Collins, how has your Christmas been?" Angel asked sweetly, moving to stand beside him near the couch.

"Right now it seems to be suffciently awkward."

Angel giggled, and her eyes flickered to the ceiling, but as quickly as her eyes had departed his, they were back again. "You know... Roger never mentioned you were so..." Angel took a step forward. "Lovely."

"Yeah, I didn't think so, because I doubt he'd use the word_ lovely_." Collins took a step forward.

"_Wait_ a sec - is that _mistletoe_ I see, _Collins_?" Mark mock gasped in surprise.

"_No way_! I think you're _right,_ Mark. You know what _that_ means, you two." Mimi laughed.

"Oh my God," Roger buried his head in his hands for the second time that morning. "Are you watching this, Mimi?"

"Are you kidding me? It's like watching the clash of the horny Titans."

Mark snuck up behind Collins and gave him a slight push. Collins stumbled forward, his hands landing smack dab on Angel's waist. "Go for it, man." he whispered.

"I love this part." Angel breathed.

"What part?" Collins asked in confusion.

"When you look into someone's eyes, and they don't look away."

"Really? I tend to get cross eyed when _that_ happens."

Angel covered her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle her laughter and Collins cringed. "I spoiled the mood, didn't I?" he winced. "God, I don't know why I _say_ these things - it's like I have Tourette's."

"Then I think you should make it up to me." Angel whispered in a low, husky, _sexy_ voice.

God, he had wanted to kiss her all morning, ever since she'd walked through the loft door. And what the hell? He had nothing to lose. So he went for it. 'gladly' was his one word response as he bent down as brushed his lips ever so slightly over hers. She deepened the kiss, and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands still on her waist.

He was beyond totally fucked, and gloriously, wonderfully so. He'd thought, maybe, that his body, his heart, his _soul_ had done it again, picked someone monumentally out of his grasp, but it hadn't, and all he needed to do to realize it and stop cowering and _reach_.

"I _love_ mistletoe." he said, and with the satisfied grin that graced Angel's face, he knew she did too.

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**Crap, in my opinion, BUT I think reviews MIGHT just sway me the other way. ;)**

**VERY happy holidays to everyone, too. :D  
**


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